


dead come to life

by saiditallbefore



Category: Captain Marvel (2019)
Genre: Angst, F/F, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, minor appearances from Fury & Monica
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-08
Updated: 2019-06-08
Packaged: 2020-04-05 22:03:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19049326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saiditallbefore/pseuds/saiditallbefore
Summary: “It’s called a soulmark.  Supposed to connect you to your soulmate— the one person in the whole world you’re meant to be with.  Kree don’t have anything like that?”Vers is sure her skepticism is showing on her face.“Might be bullshit.  Might not.  Either way, it’s messed up.  Your words are supposed to be the last ones your soulmate ever says to you.”





	dead come to life

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SinginInTheRaine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SinginInTheRaine/gifts).



Some people think soulmarks are romantic.

Maria is pretty sure those people are idiots. 

Truth be told, she used to be one of them. She used to like the idea that there was someone out there who was just perfect for her— who would fit into her life like a puzzle piece. She held on tight to that thought after the end of her disastrous relationship with Monica’s father.

And then she’d met Carol. Carol, who had never believed in soulmates. If she’d ever wondered what her words had meant, she didn’t tell Maria.

For a time, Maria had hoped Carol was her soulmate— the one person that fate or some higher power had connected her to.

It was only when Project Pegasus failed— when she heard Carol over the radio saying the words on Maria’s wrist before everything went quiet— that she understood. 

* * *

Sometimes, when Vers wakes from nightmares about a life she can’t remember, she sits alone and runs her fingers along the words that encircle her left wrist.

Yon-Rogg tells her not to dwell on her past, on the complete void that is her memory before she awoke on Hala six years ago. But how can she help but wonder? Vers has no other tattoos, nothing else that sets her apart. Only three words, not in Kree glyphs but in a language she probably wouldn’t even be able to read except for her universal translator.

They’re all she has to link her to the past she can’t remember. But she cannot imagine what could have happened in those years to convince her to get the words “ _Are you okay?_ ” written around her wrist.

* * *

Fury has words on his upper arm. They’re hard to see, written in black against his dark skin, but they’re unmistakably there.

They’re sitting in companionable silence as they fly east across the country, toward Captain Rambeau’s house. Vers is loath to break the silence, but she has to know.

“Those words on your arm,” she begins.

“This?” Fury gestures at the words. “It’s called a soulmark. Supposed to connect you to your soulmate— the one person in the whole world you’re meant to be with. Kree don’t have anything like that?”

Vers snorts. “No.” She’s sure her skepticism is showing on her face, but she can’t bring herself to care. “You really believe all that?”

Fury shrugs a single shoulder. “Might be bullshit. Might not. Either way, it’s messed up.”

Vers raises an eyebrow at him.

“Your words are supposed to be the last ones your soulmate ever says to you.”

The gravity of this sinks in, and Vers can’t help but glance at her wrist. The words there are covered by her Starforce uniform. Besides, she’s Kree. Whatever the words mean, it’s not this.

It can’t be _this_.

* * *

Carol shows up in Maria’s backyard, alive and well. But things take a turn before Maria can say anything about soulmarks— Carol is spinning stories about aliens and galactic wars and memory loss. 

When Carol asks her to join them in flying into outer space, Maria touches her soulmark—- covered as usual by her watchband— and acquiesces.

* * *

The Skrull refugees are reunited, the Kree get kicked to the curb, and once again, it’s just Carol and Maria. Maria knows what comes next: Carol is going to leave, to try and single-handedly put an end to an alien war that Maria had never even heard of before yesterday.

Carol stands in Maria’s kitchen, and looks at her. And before she can say goodbye— before Maria can have any second thoughts— Maria removes her watch.

“I know you don’t remember everything,” she says. “But these were the last words you said to me before... before.” She rotates her wrist, so Carol can see the words: “ _Yeah, I copy_ ” in hurried, spiked handwriting.

Carol reaches forward, as if to touch Maria’s wrist, but pulls herself back. “I remember that. Now.” She rolls up her sleeve, and Maria sees her own handwriting there. She runs her fingers along the words, just to reassure herself that the words are truly there.

“Fury said that they’re supposed to be the last words you say to each other,” Carol says. “But I’m still alive.”

“I don’t know why,” Maria says. “When you didn’t remember, that was a little like you had died. Maybe that was enough.”

After a moment, Carol nods.

“I’m not trying to make you stay,” Maria continues. “I just thought you should know.”

* * *

Carol leaves, of course. Maria knew she would.

It hurts, watching her leave. But it’s still better than thinking Carol is dead.

(Maria tries not to think about the war that Carol has put herself in the middle of, or the Kree Empire she’s willingly picked a fight with. Carol is _alive_.)

* * *

Carol still wakes in the middle of the night, sometimes. Like before, when she was on Hala, she looks at the words on her wrists.

_Are you okay?_ they read, as they always have. But now they mean something. They connect her to Maria, despite the vast distance that separates them. 

They tie her to Maria, but they don't restrain her or mind her. Maria didn't try to stop her from leaving— not with pleading or manipulation or threats. Maybe she had known nothing would stop Carol from leaving, from doing everything in her power to help the Skrulls. 

She couldn't make up for the Skrull lives she had taken in the name of the Kree. But she could— she _would_ — work to balance the scales. 

But it is growing harder for Carol to focus all of her energies on that goal when it feels like she has left half of her heart back on Earth.

* * *

Almost a year after Carol’s departure, Maria wakes to the sound of something— either a military plane or some kind of spaceship— landing in her backyard.

Monica is already peering out the windows when Maria gets downstairs, gun in hand. 

“Stay inside,” Maria says.

“But Mom—” Monica begins.

“ _Stay inside_ ,” Maria repeats firmly. Monica makes a face, but doesn’t argue.

Maria is relieved. There’s no telling what’s out there; Carol and Talos were perfectly clear that the universe is a crowded and unfriendly place. She doesn’t want Monica getting in the middle of any of that.

She slips out the door, gun at the ready, and watches for any movement from the spaceship sitting in her yard.

Her gun is at the ready as soon as she spots movement from the ship. Her finger is on the trigger, but she refrains from firing-- and she’s glad.

The figure stepping away from the spaceship is Carol. 

Maria puts the safety back on her gun and runs toward Carol. “What are you doing here?” she asks.

Carol hesitates. “I wanted to see you,” she says. 

Maria’s heart leaps, but she ignores it. “Me?”

Carol touches her wrist, where Maria knows her words are. “I’ve thought a lot about what you said. Right before I left.”

“And?” Maria’s throat is tight. 

“And I don’t know anything about soulmates,” Carol says. “I don’t know what that’s supposed to mean. Maybe I used to, but I don’t remember. But when I look at the words on my wrist-- I used to wonder where they came from. But now I know that they’re from you. And every time I look at them, you’re what I think of.”

She looks unsure of herself suddenly. 

Maria moves to her, and pulls Carol closer. “I’m glad you came back,” she says. There’s more she wants to say, but it’s the middle of the night, and Monica is in the house, waiting up for her. So instead she says, “It’s late. Why don’t you come inside?”

Carol follows Maria inside, and gives a hug to Monica. It takes a quarter of an hour, but Maria finally gets Monica shuffled back to bed, and the two of them are left alone, looking at each other across Maria’s living room.

“Maria—” Carol begins. But Maria has had enough of talking about this. She strides across the room and pulls Carol to her. She hasn’t forgotten how strong Carol is; she couldn’t really move Carol if she didn’t want to be moved. In this instance, though, it’s reassuring to know that Carol is falling into her arms because she _wants_ to.

Maria doesn’t know which one of them initiates the kiss, but suddenly she and Carol are tangled together, kissing eagerly while their hands explore each other’s bodies. Before she knows it, her shirt has been discarded on the floor and Carol’s lips are hot against her collarbone. Maria lightly scrapes her teeth against Carol’s jaw as she fumbles with the front of Carol’s uniform. It finally springs open, and she’s rewarded with a look at Carol’s breasts— apparently, there’s no need for bras in space.

Maria brushes against Carol’s nipples— her dusky pink areolae a pleasing contrast against Maria’s own dark skin— and is rewarded with a gratifying moan from Carol. Maria repeats the action. As she does so, Carol holds Maria’s wrist lightly, pressing kisses to the soulmark she knows is there.

Maria presses a kiss to the corner of Carol’s lips, then Carol turns and kisses her again thoroughly. She is almost in Carol’s lap, pressed as close to her as she can be.

Something creaks upstairs, and Maria pulls away from Carol. She waits, listening to see if it was Monica creeping out of bed again, or if it was just the house settling. There’s no other noise, but Maria stands anyway.

“We should move this upstairs,” she says.

“You mean I’m not sleeping on the couch?” Carol is smiling, but there’s uncertainty in her voice.

“Well, if you insist.” Maria turns and begins to walk upstairs. She’s barely made it to the first step when Carol catches up to her, spinning her around and kissing her again.

* * *

Carol wakes to the smell of pancakes. There’s light streaming through the windows into an unfamiliar bedroom and it takes her a few moments to remember where she is.

Earth. Louisiana. 

Maria.

She leaves her uniform on Maria’s bedroom floor, where it had ended up last night. She has clothes in the ship she brought, but Maria’s are right here. Her jeans are a little long on Carol, but she cuffs them a few times. With a faded t-shirt that Carol thinks she remembers, it’s good enough to go downstairs.

Maria and Monica are already in the kitchen. There’s a stack of pancakes sitting on a plate next to the stove, and Monica is already pouring syrup over hers.

“Look who finally got up,” Maria says. She gives Carol’s a pointed up-and-down look. Carol tries to look innocent. (It’s never been a good look on her.)

“Auntie Carol!” Monica exclaims. “Are you staying for breakfast?”

Carol shows her the plate of pancakes she’s already started filling up. “What does it look like?”

“How long are you staying?” Monica asks.

Maria and Monica are both looking at her. Carol bites her lip.

“I don’t know,” she confesses. “As long as I can. And I’ll come back, I promise.”

“You can’t promise that,” Maria says, and in her eyes Carol sees the weight of their soulmark. Of the years apart, of Carol’s ‘death’. Promises can’t always be kept.

“I can try,” Carol says, fully meeting Maria’s eyes. “If you’ll let me.”

Maria’s mouth curls into a hint of a smile. “I think I’ll allow it.” She nods at Carol’s plate. “Now sit down and eat your breakfast before it gets cold.”

Carol obeys, laughing.


End file.
